


In Your Wildest Dreams

by PipMer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 00:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17735603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PipMer/pseuds/PipMer
Summary: Four times Castiel saw Dean's dreams, and one time he made them come true.





	In Your Wildest Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first foray into the Supernatural fandom in general, and Destiel in particular. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This little ficlet is the result of being inspired by this post on tumblr: http://cath-avery.tumblr.com/post/182073213933/au-where-cas-sees-deans-dreams
> 
> Many, many thanks and deepest gratitude to rachelindeed for beta'ing this for me. For keeping me on canon-track, and pointing out that I was describing colors in scenes that had been designated black-and-white. D'oh!

 

Profound bond.

That’s how Castiel describes the relationship between him and Dean. He has no idea what the bonds between typical humans are like, being non-human himself, so he has nothing to compare it to. All he knows is that the deepest connections he has are with humans, and the one he has with Dean is particularly intense.

What _kind_ it is, he has no idea. Romantic, platonic, familial… those are just words that have no meaning. Angels aren’t supposed to form attachments, not even amongst themselves. They’re supposed to be cold, rational creatures, emotionless and unfeeling. At least, that’s how they were created to be.

Cas is pretty sure he’s veered way off that path, ever since meeting the Winchesters…or at least one Winchester in particular.

 

1.

 

_Cas doesn’t really sleep, but he does have the ability to take himself ‘offline’ at times. To recharge his angel batteries, so to speak. He knows he’s in that in-between state when he opens his eyes and the world looks like a black-and-white film._

_He’s just an observer here, so he relaxes his instinct to take control. Just watches. Lets his mind wander wherever it will. It’s not dreaming, per se, since he’s not asleep. He’s not trying to think of anything in particular, or go anywhere specific. He just -- is._

_Suddenly, a vision of Dean stands before him, holding a small child in his arms. The baby is swaddled in a blanket, and dressed in a knit outfit with matching hat. Dean is looking down at the child with stars in his eyes, tenderness and pure love in his gaze._

_The scene scrolls past Cas’s line of sight like a movie. Dean and the child are outdoors, and Dean is walking towards a park that looks set up for children, with swingsets and slides, sandboxes and monkey bars. A man is standing by one of the swings, waiting for them. As Dean gets closer, the man’s outline resolves into clear focus, and it’s_ him, _it’s Cas, but not Cas dressed in his usual fashion, complete with trenchcoat, white shirt and tie. No, this Cas is dressed in typical casual wear: a worn t-shirt, unzipped windbreaker, and jeans. He’s smiling in a way that Cas_ never _smiles, his eyes sparkling, and he asks, “Dean, why did you bring Claire with you?”_

_Dean looks up, and positively_ beams. _“I got out of work early, so I went ahead and picked her up from daycare for some quality time. She’ll be happy to see both her dads.” He walks up close to Cas, leans in and places a soft kiss on Cas’s cheek. He steps back, and that’s when the scene disintegrates, all three of them disappearing in a swirl of smoke that flies away into the wind._

_Cas gasps, blinks once --_

 

And looks around at his color-filled motel room, hands gripping the armrests of his recliner. The TV in front of him only shows static, and the inky black pressing against the window indicates late night or very early morning.

Cas isn’t sure what just happened, but he thinks he may have just witnessed a dream. Dean’s dream. Without intending to do so.

 

+++

 

The three of them have been on a case, scoping out supposed sightings of ghouls in Grand Rapids, Michigan. They had booked this motel yesterday around five p.m., hungry and exhausted. Even Cas felt the need to rest and recharge. He kept the brothers company at a nearby Denny’s while they shoveled Grand Slams into their mouths and gulped down stale day-old coffee.

Afterwards, Sam and Dean crashed in their room, immediately dead to the world, leaving Cas to wait on them till morning. Which was why Cas had been in the room across from theirs, watching a _Charmed_ marathon, when he had ‘nodded off’. That was when he had inadvertently eavesdropped on Dean’s dream.

At least, that’s what he assumes happened. Nothing like this has happened to him before, where he accidentally stumbled into someone’s dream, so he has no frame of reference. Angels have almost unlimited power, but their interactions with humans, the apple of God’s eye, come with strict guidelines. Cas doesn’t worry so much these days about breaking the rules every so often, but still...

There are standards that he has set for himself, in regards to how he treats humans. And he has just crossed a line. Not with just *any* human  -- Dean Winchester. Inarguably Cas’s closest friend.

Shame makes his face heat up and his hands tremble. He’s just _violated_ his best friend. Glimpsed images that were meant to be kept private, even secret.

And the images he had seen -- well. There’s only one conclusion to be drawn from them, isn’t there?

It can only end in disappointment for his human friend. Because angels are incapable of love.

  


+++

  


He doesn’t let himself relax for the rest of the night. His senses are on high alert, and he’s restless. He walks the two miles to Denny’s (he really misses his wings, sometimes) and fills up on coffee and pie. Like he’s channeling Dean. Cas grimaces.

He gets back to the motel in time to see Sam and Dean walk out of the lobby. His heart stutters. He has a hard time looking Dean in the eye, but he forces himself. To see if he can catch any evidence of what was on Dean’s mind last night.

Dean holds his gaze, and gives him the old familiar heart-breaker smile, which is more of a smirk really. “Early morning walk, Cas? Get your angel juices flowing? Hurry up and turn in your key, we gotta hit the road.”

There’s nothing in Dean’s behavior to indicate that he had a less than platonic dream about his best friend last night. No blush, no averting of eyes. No sheepish expression.

Humans do have a tendency to forget most of their dreams, images disappearing like wisps of smoke in the light of day.

 

They’re soon on the road, chasing a lead. Cas feels uncomfortable, slouching in the back seat of Baby and listening with one ear to the brothers’ banter and attempts at strategy. He tries to forget what he saw and to not think about what it means.

  


+++

  


Two months later, Sam and Dean are hundreds of miles away in a different state, cleaning out a nest of vamps. Cas stayed behind because he’s still recovering from a nick he got a week ago from an angel blade, of all things. Some of his grace bled out -- not a lot, but just enough to weaken him and require a few days of rejuvenation. So he has the bunker all to himself.

It was nice for the first few days. Now, it’s just lonely. He misses the presence of Sam and Dean, their back-and-forth energy, the raised voices in argument over how best to approach a case, the quiet moments when they’re just hanging out, domestic and relaxed. He misses them with an ache he can’t define. Especially --

But no. He really shouldn’t have a favorite. They’re both family, both of them his chosen brothers.

And yet.

He can’t deny that his thoughts most often seek out memories of Dean. His snark, his sarcasm. The way his eyes twinkle when he sees Cas for the first time after a prolonged absence. The shape and curve of his lips when they quirk up a certain way as he gets ready to tease Cas about something he’s clueless about.

Cas really shouldn’t be having these kinds of thoughts. About _anybody._

 

 

2.

 

_He doesn’t need to lie in a bed, because he doesn’t sleep, but that’s what he’s doing right now. He’s stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers. It’s a luxury, and hedonistic, to wrap himself in satin sheets and snuggle underneath a comforter, with two large firm posturepedic pillows cradling his head. It feels good against his bare skin, and he revels in the pleasurable sensations. He’s just going to rest his eyes, and lie here in the dark for awhile. For several hours, probably._

_He rolls onto his side, closes his eyes. Empties his mind. Lets it wander._

_For the longest time, there are no images. Just his own thoughts. Wondering if Sam and Dean have found all of the vampires and killed them. Wondering if they’re safe. If they are sitting across from each other at an all-night cafe, or if they’ve retired for the night._

_Then he sees Dean, lying flat on his back in bed, in sweatpants and t-shirt. His hands are laced together on his chest, and his head is turned to one side, looking at something next to him. His expression speaks of fondness, eyes soft and his mouth tilted up in a half-smile. Cas feels a pang in his chest, as he realizes Dean is most likely watching his girl-of-the-night as she sleeps._

_Then the vision widens, and he sees who it is lying next to Dean, under the covers and dead to the world. Dark, bed-head hair peeks out, and just half of a face. But he would know that face anywhere. He looks at it in the mirror every day._

_Although he can’t say that he’s ever been privy to how his sleeping self looks. Dean seems to think he’s adorable, going by the expression on his face. He’s just watching Cas sleep. And instead of being creepy, it comes across as romantic._

_During all of the cases they have been on together, all of the travels they’ve been on over the years -- the two of them have never shared a room together, let alone a bed. So this isn’t a memory. It must be another --_

_That’s when Dean rolls onto his side, and cards his fingers gently through his bed partner’s --_ Cas’s -- _hair. Cas crinkles his nose, and makes a noise that causes Dean to chuckle._

_“There he is. I let you sleep in, seeing how we wrapped everything up yesterday. You deserve it.” Dean continues letting his hands wander over Cas’s hair and face in an unbearably intimate fashion._

_Yes. Most definitely a dream._

_Dean leans forward and places a kiss on Cas’s forehead. Cas sleepily opens his eyes, squinting up at his bedmate. Dean says, “You’re so adorable”, before the scene narrows down into a dot before disappearing, just like those old-time television sets used to do when they were turned off._

  


Cas opens his eyes to a darkened room. The silence is deafening, and the absence of other people is suffocating.

 

His chest hurts.

  


+++

  


So distance apparently is no obstacle. Seeing into Dean’s dream while he was in the other room was one thing; being separated by hundreds of miles and an entire state -- that’s a whole different level. And he’s seen nobody’s else’s dreams… just Dean’s.

Profound bond indeed.

  


+++

  


Two of Sam and Dean’s hunter friends are getting married next weekend. Sam is laid low with a nasty cold, so Dean approaches Cas.

“Hey, Cas buddy…”

For some reason Cas can’t explain, he cringes inwardly whenever Dean calls him that. “Buddy”. He doesn’t understand why; it’s a perfectly reasonable epithet for a best friend.

Cas schools his face into a neutral expression before he turns around.

“Yes, Dean? What can I do for you?”

“Look, I know it’s probably not your thing, but… since Sammy’s indisposed, wanna be my plus-one at Jimmy and John’s wedding?”

“Plus-one?”

Dean gives a halting laugh. His eyes dart from side to side, like he can’t look Cas in the eye. He rubs his neck.

“Yeah, it… generally wedding invites include the recipient, plus a guest. Doesn’t have to be a _date,_ could just be a friend. Anyway.. Are ya interested? There’s always good food afterwards, usually an open bar. Hunters throw the best parties.”

Cas cocks his head, considering. He’s never been to or observed a wedding before; it might be educational. Another look into the strange habits humans regularly partake in.

“Would it be considered… taboo… to show up at a wedding alone?”

Dean blushes. “Uh… no, not really? It’s just… the more the merrier, ya know? The more gifts.” Dean cracks a smile. “If you go you’ll have to purchase a gift for the lucky couple. And… you’ll have to get rid of that trenchcoat.”

Cas gives him a scandalized look.

Dean holds up his hands. “I mean… I love your coat, Cas. It’s very -- you. But weddings are a formal occasion. The suit you normally wear… are wearing right now, with the tie and everything… perfectly suitable. Not the coat, though. Should be warm enough you won’t need it anyway.”

Why is Dean acting so… unDean-like? Unsure of himself. Lacking his usual bravado.

Cas shrugs. “Sure. Why not? I have no other plans.”

Dean chuckles, and claps a hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Right. I mean, how many earthly social engagements would an angel of the Lord have, right? We’ll leave Saturday at 4. Sound good?”

Cas nods. After Dean leaves, he stands there for a full five minutes, savoring the warmth that remains on the spot Dean’s hand had clasped.

  


+++

 

Cas has more fun than he had expected. The ceremony itself is, admittedly, a bit dry and boring. Afterwards, though… well. _That_ was an experience.

Cas has never been presented with so much food in his life. The champagne keeps flowing, as if from a never-ending spring. Cas drinks enough of it that he senses a slight tingling in the tips of his fingers, and a faint buzzing in his head. Ever since the Fall, he’s noticed an increased capacity to enjoy human pleasures, especially ones that employ the physical senses. He may no longer have his wings, and he may have diminished grace… but there are other things that he has gained that he would not have wanted to miss out on.

Cas discovers dancing, and finds out that he’s quite good at it. A natural, even. Perhaps his angel grace gives him a certain kind of… _other_ grace. He loses track of Dean as he gives himself over to the music, energized by the presence of strangers who are caught up in the same kind of energy that he is. Serotonin floods his system, and he is intoxicated with joy and an overwhelming sense of wellbeing.

He forgets that angels are supposed to be solitary, above-it-all creatures.

  


_3._

 

_Cas drives them back to the bunker afterwards. Dean is in no shape to do so, and despite the fact that Cas drank much more than he did, Cas remains relatively unaffected. He’s more high on mood-enhancing hormones than he is on alcohol._

_After he makes sure Dean is situated and able to look after himself, Cas forgoes his suit jacket, loosens his tie, and kicks off his shoes. He collapses on a couch and sighs with both contentment and exhaustion. He’s too unfocused to even turn on the television. He lets himself drift off into a natural state of dormancy._

_After an indeterminate amount of time, the first image he sees is eerily reminiscent of the event he’s just returned from. Dean and Sam are standing next to each other, dressed up in formal suits. Sam leans down and pins a boutonniere onto Dean’s lapel. Dean’s eyes are sparkling with both unnameable joy and unspeakable anxiety. He’s fidgeting and yet displaying a shit-eating grin that speaks of self-satisfaction. As if he’s won a prize that he can’t quite believe happened to him._

_A heavy feeling forms behind Cas’s breastbone. As if a large rock has wedged itself between his heart and his lungs, and he can’t dislodge it._

_Dean is dreaming of his own wedding, obviously sparked by the wedding both of them attended last night. And Cas can’t explain why that fills him with emptiness._

_Then, as with the last dream, the scene shifts and shatters all of Cas’s expectations._

_Dean turns away from Sam, to look at the aisle down which his bride should be walking. His eyes widen and his mouth falls open as he drinks in the sight of…_

_Castiel slowly making his way towards him. He’s not dressed up in any formal way. He’s dressed as himself, complete with his everyday clothes and his trenchcoat. It should throw him out of the scene as being incompatible with expectations, but somehow it works. As if this is how Dean sees him, and doesn’t want him any other way. In direct contrast to what he had requested of Cas when inviting him to his friends’ wedding._

_Dean’s face softens and his mouth starts to curve into a smile as Cas approaches him. Just as they both reach out to each other and their hands almost touch…_

_White static fills Cas’s field of vision. He rubs his eyes…_

 

And finds himself staring up at the ceiling fan as it slowly rotates, moving the stale air around and providing a much needed breeze.

 

These insights into Dean’s thoughts and desires should fill him with hope. Instead, they do the opposite. Because as much as Cas cares about Dean, would gladly sacrifice anything for him, even die for him… the indisputable fact remains. Such a connection goes against his very nature, goes against the destiny that his Father created him and his kind to fulfill. There is no future beyond friendship for the two of them.

But oh, how Cas wishes otherwise.

  


+++

  


Then comes the day when Cas, dying and in extreme pain, finds himself surrounded by three Winchesters. And the feeling bubbles up inside of him, stronger than ever before, and he declares --

“I love you. I love _all_ of you.”

And even though he includes all three of the Winchesters.. Sam, Dean, and Mary… there is a hesitation between his first and second declaration. Deep inside, he knows that those first three words were directed toward Dean and Dean alone. And the way Dean’s face falls and the way he looks away for a split second… Cas knows that Dean knows.

Although Cas survives that encounter, soon enough he dies for real, and there’s no more time left.

 

+++

 

Except against all odds, he comes back. At the request of a young Nephilim who is still testing out the extent of his powers.

After that, everything changes.

 

 

_4._

 

_The next dream Cas is privy to is different than the previous ones. Instead of just one scene, there are many, each following on the heels of the others. It starts with the two of them, walking hand in hand as if it were something they did every day. Then it slides into a scene where Cas is bathing a small child, and Dean looks on with an unreadable expression._

_After that, the images become progressively more intimate. The two of them making out on the floor in front of a fireplace. Under the covers in bed, naked, entwined together with looks of bliss on both their faces. The scenes become ever more explicit, as if Dean is finally giving free rein to his deepest and truest desires. Finally letting the floodgates loose. As if he can finally allow himself to explore and believe in the possibility._

_And as Cas experiences all of these things vicariously, he starts to believe in the possibility himself. But when he starts to feel actual arousal --_

 

He pushes himself out of the dream back into reality. He doesn’t want to feel these things in a fantasy world. He wants to experience them for real. With someone who feels the same way he does.

The problem is… he’s still an angel. How can this possibly work?

 

 

+1

  
In the fullness of time, everything falls into place. Cas is offered a choice, and he chooses mortality. It was either that, or be sent back to Heaven permanently. Cas can’t bear the thought. To never see or speak to Dean again? Unacceptable.

He now knows what they can have, and Cas is determined to give it all to Dean.

To shape his dreams into reality. 

It’s interesting. Now that he’s human again, he has the means to do that which he could never have done as an angel, even with all the power in the universe at his disposal.

Now it’s up to Dean, to accept his offering.

  


Cas finds him in the garden, sitting on a bench and watching one of the fountains as it gurgles happily away. It’s the only thing within sight that *is* happy. Dean’s shoulders are slumped, and his eyes have none of their usual spark. In fact, they’re dull and lifeless. As if there’s nothing else in this world to look forward to.

Cas claps a hand on his shoulder, and Dean jumps. He turns startled eyes on his friend; they widen in surprise. Cas withdraws his hand. He furrows his brow in concern.

“Dean? May I sit?”

Dean’s face shifts into neutrality. He clears his throat. “Be my guest. I… I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Cas sits, and watches in confusion as Dean scoots to the other side of the bench, leaving a wide space between them.

His heart sinks.

Cas lowers his voice. “Dean. Did you seriously think that I was going to make the other choice? That I’ve -- already made it?”

Dean doesn’t look at him. “Haven’t you?”

“No!” The vehemence of his reply makes Dean jump. “Do you really believe - “ Cas pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Dean. After all we’ve been through. Do you really believe that I would abandon you? I told you how I feel. I’ve used the actual words. Did you think I was lying?”

Dean gives him a stunned look. He clears his throat. “Wow. I guess we’re actually going there.”

“To quote yourself: Damn straight.”

“I just -- Cas. Of course I don’t think you were lying. I think they were the most honest words you’ve ever said to me. Those words, though…. _That_ word. Can be used many different ways, yeah? I thought I knew what you were saying, but… I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, right?”

Cas smiles, and that act alone makes him feel a thousand percent more optimistic. He slides closer to Dean, and presses their shoulders together. “Would you like me to show you, beyond the shadow of a doubt?”

“If you really did choose mortality, Cas, that’s enough proof for me. But are you sure that’s really what you want? That it’ll be worth it?”

“I’m sure, and it already is. Worth it.” Cas closes the distance, and presses his lips to Dean’s.

  


There’s no fireworks, and yet it feels more magical than he ever imagined. There’s no divine spark, but the electricity is undeniable. Their _profound_ bond? Cas knows how to define it now.

It’s _everything._

When he finally pulls away, Cas keeps his hand on Dean’s cheek. He has the urge to take more, claim more. But he has to be sure that all of those dreams weren’t just Dean’s mind taking a joy ride.

“Dean,” Cas says, his voice lower and more gravelly than usual. “What do you want? Show me.”

Dean knows immediately what he’s asking. He smiles, Winchester charm oozing from every pore. If Cas wasn’t already head over heels in love, that would have pushed him over the edge.

“You have my permission,” Dean says, voice just as rough as Cas’s.

Both of them close their eyes as Cas places a hand on Dean’s temple, a gesture reminiscent of Spock’s mind meld. Dean opens his mind, and allows Cas in.

Cas sees several versions of the scenes that he has already been privy to, in Dean’s dreams. All of them show the same thing. In answer to Cas’s question, Dean wants _everything._

They both open their eyes and stare at each other.

“I can give you all of that, if it’s what you want,” Cas says. “Share a bed, marry you… I want all of that as well.”

He swallows before he asks, “And kids? Is that something you want with me as well?”

Dean ducks his head. “It’s… something I wouldn’t mind talking about. I always pictured you as a great dad, I mean… because of how you were with Claire, ya know? But it’s not something that’s necessary. Especially living the lives we do. Although, now… maybe things are settling down.”

Cas rests his forehead on Dean’s. “It’s definitely up for discussion. I can picture doing anything, as long as it’s with you.”

“Aw Cas,” Dean says in his teasing, sing-song voice. “That’s so romantic.”

“Shut up,” Cas says, a smile in his voice.

“My very own angel.”

“Not anymore.”

“My protector, my guardian…”

Cas pushes Dean off the bench. Dean lands on his ass, laughing the entire time. Cas throws himself down next to him, and both of them give in to hysterics. They laugh and laugh, until their bellies hurt and their tears of mirth run dry. Cas feels weightless, and Dean looks enraptured. He looks like -- all of his dreams have come true.

“Cas,” Dean gasps. “I’ve never seen you act so… human.” He licks his lips. “It’s very sexy.”

Cas grins. He grabs Dean by the back of the neck and pulls him close, kissing him for all he’s worth, like he won’t get another chance. Like a man who hasn’t had water for days and finally gets to drink his fill.

He's lost track of the passage of time when they finally fall apart. Dean smiles, and finally, _finally_ says: “God, I love you.”

Cas smirks. “I know.”

Dean gasps, putting a hand on his own chest. “You _dog!_ Did you… did you just _Han Solo_ me??”

“Indeed. Although to be fair, I *did* say it first. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“Yes, you did. Good on you. Also to be fair? Took me long enough too, didn’t it? But whatever, man. We got there in the end. So, is Sammy still hanging around? Let’s go find him and blow this popsicle stand. Let’s go home.”

  


And so they do.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
